Junkrat is an Inconsiderate Neighbour
by junkpeople0
Summary: You're kept awake against your own will by the carnal sounds of Jamison Fawkes, and in a moment of sub-par judgement you decide to give him a piece of your mind. Reader isn't explicitly gendered but reading as DFAB makes a bit more sense.
1. Who's up wrestling goblins at this time?

_(sorry in advance for what follows)_

You've always been one for the golden 'eight hours of rest' rule. But currently- by no fault of your own- you find yourself unable to submit to blissful unconsciousness, much to your _fucking_ chagrin. And if you weren't knocked out in the next 15 minutes you would be in no shape for training come tomorrow.

So why were you here with a pillow clamped over your head? Because your inconsiderate neighbour is currently (from what you can muster) conducting a late night wrestling match. Or like, fighting off a dozen goblins. The thought brought a moment of laughter to you, though that was probably the sleep deprivation rearing its head.

It's safe to say you weren't used to this. In the few months after joining Overwatch and moving into your assigned room you had no problems with rowdy neighbours, namely because they were always out prioritising sparring over sleep. But unfortunately for you that wasn't the case tonight. You lifted the pillow from your face momentarily, hopeful the grunting had stopped. To your disappointment it sounded like a few more goblins had joined in.

You restlessly turned back and forth for a few more minutes, but by God that Junker really did have a pair of lungs on him. Flinging the covers off of your vest and short covered form you stormed over to the far wall of your room and brought a fist down angrily against it. Finding yourself unsuccessful in grasping any attention using your hands, you yelled out a hearty "Jamison you aussie cunt, if you don't put a sock in it I'll come in there and pull your tongue out". Granted the language was a bit strong, and you didn't have anything against the kid (aside from how his face twitched unnervingly and his giggle was reminiscent of an eight year old's), but he was an obstacle in the greater plan right now.

Really the last thing you wanted to do right now was go through with your threat. Not necessarily out of kindness to Fawkes, but just because your room was pretty cosy and your plush covered bed was more appealing than the thought of whatever stink could be in Junkrat's room. But the Australian battle cries had long since cracked whatever restraint you'd been feeling.

Stomping quickly to the door, you bypassed your slippers in your sleepy yet rage-filled state and exited your abode. Flexing your fingers and planning to punch the door in, you caught a glimpse of the door of the adjoining room. Of course it was ajar. You doubted Junkrat even knew what the word 'privacy' meant.  
Pushing enough for it to swing open you readied yourself to list off the reasons why Fawkes needed to shut up immediately for his own safety. But you froze. Mouth hanging open and hand still outstretched, your mind quickly intruded- 'of course he's jacking off you fucking yam, who's wrestling at 11:30 at night?' You honestly overestimated your logical reasoning.

So yeah, there he was. On his back. Cock in hand. Two metal fingers in his ass. Headphones clamped over his ears, no doubt listening to some obscure whalesong or whatever kids these days jack off to. _Thankfully_ his eyes were closed. You could have taken a picture to use as some sick bargaining chip for explosives but you're a good(ish) guy.  
Not one to interfere with the beauty of self love, you disregarded the speech you had readied and quietly reached to close the door for him. You realised you probably wouldn't be able to look at Junkrat ever again without the memory of his balls impinging on you. 'That's alright. I've seen worse testicles in my day,' you thought to yourself.

You had the door halfway closed when he opened his eyes.  
"Oi! Who's out there?" came the slightly laboured voice. You honestly hoped he would have just left it be and kept jackin', but you can't have it all.

You popped your head round the door- making sure to keep your eyes on Junkrat's face. You could still tell that his fingers were in his ass though, leaving you slightly unsure as to how to continue.  
"Uh, hi Jamison. Saw your door was open and I heard stuff so I was just-" he cut you off.  
"You're just the person I needed to see!" he announced. Did he need to talk strategies or something? That really could wait, this kid sure knows how to pick a time for chatting.  
You narrowed your eyes."In case you've forgotten, you're kind of…" you gestured to the vague vicinity of his cock filled hand, "… busy." He looked at you incredulously. "Aye sheila, I'm having a bitta trouble finishing though. Think you could help a pal out?" You couldn't believe this guy. Asking you to jerk him off as though it was as simple as a back scratch. And in what you would class as one of your lowest moments you found yourself considering it.

After a few moments you quietly asked "Will you shut up if I do?" All you got was a sprightly grin in response.


	2. Wanker

So here you are, stood in the doorway of a room belonging to a currently masturbating 25 year old. Cool.

"Jamison, do you think you could maybe remove your fingers from your anus for a sec?" you pleadingly questioned.  
He seemed confused at first, but then his face lit up with sudden realisation. Did he really forget he was fingering himself?  
With that epiphany, his robotic fingers none too delicately left his ass with a trail of (what you hoped was) lube connecting the two body parts. He of course wiped the offending liquid off onto his chest. You grimaced slightly.

While gazing at Junkrat's taint the situation suddenly hit you. It felt like the blanket of sleep clouding your judgement had been ripped away, leaving you feeling incredibly flushed at the sight of your teammate's nude and freckled visage. "Fuck." you whimpered, palms suddenly feeling a whole lot sweatier. Had you really just agreed to touch this guy? Not that he wasn't appealing- well he wasn't really, lets be honest the guy has a prematurely receding hairline and he talks to himself. That made you feel a hell of a lot more sheepish about the occasional impure thoughts you had about the lanky bastard. But you had always had a thing for the tall ones.

While your mind was taking a moment to buffer Fawkes had taken the initiative to come towards you, hobbling forward while giggling impishly and tapping his fingertips together in anticipation.  
You couldn't help but notice his cock was level with your bellybutton. It was surprisingly clean for such a grimy individual, and the head was a dark pink shade. Not that you were holding a colour chart up to his goolies or anything.

You craned your neck up to peek at Jamison, blimey could he not shrink a few inches and make this easier on you?  
"So..." you drawled self-consciously, "care to start me off?"  
Junkrat was all too happy, spouting a quick 'alright bird' before taking your hand and enthusiastically clasping it around his cock. Cool. Now you've got a grip on at least 8 inches of an Australian. You'd say that's a first.

"Crikey your hands are fuckin' small ain't they? Not sure you'll be able to get the job done with those" Junkrat announced. You grit your teeth in annoyance. If there was anything you hated, it was when people underestimated you. Especially when it came to your ability to get someone off. "You're in for it now you dirty fucking beanpole" you seethed.

And the with that, the cock jerking floodgates opened.  
You gripped Junkrat's dick with the fury of a hundred shorter-than-average people scorned, and if he were any less of a masochist it probably wouldn't have been as enjoyable as he made it seem. His breath hitched and his ever present twitching stopped as his body went completely rigid.  
Spurred on by this you began twisting your hand around his shaft, focusing on tightening your grip around the head of his cock. And oh my god, you should have expected him to be vocal but you were not prepared for this.

He let out a whimper that you could have likened to a puppy having its tail trodden on. You silently chided yourself for the graphic imagery. Now's not the time for that shit. But presently you think you would have taken Jamison over a dog anyway.  
As you methodically pumped your fist around his cock you felt him buckle and lean against you, bent over with his hands around your shoulders and his head buried in your neck. He whined out again, his hot breath against your throat was causing your stomach to knot up in a way you could definitely tell was not related to digestion. You could tell weeks from now you would still be recalling memories of this to fuel your 'late night touchy times'.

Another moan escaped Junkrat's mouth and his teeth brushed against your heated skin. You swear one of those goblins was doing somersaults in your gut right now. At least his sounds were now being muffled by your flesh. Even if you were experiencing some other effects. Namely you becoming _as wet as the fucking Molonglo River._

You reached your hand up to try and pat his head in a futile attempt to calm him slightly but found your hand was almost instantaneously trapped in the severe knotting going on in his hair. So instead of what was intended to be a friendly pat, you had accidentally created a more passionate embrace between yourself and the junker. 'Shit's sake, what are you gonna do next? Propose to him? Stop making things weird.' You mentally scolded yourself. But in fairness, it was weird the second you walked in on Junkrat fingering himself.

You unintentionally gripped Jamison's dick harder and noticed a wet sensation against your neck. You bit down on your lip and tried your best to ignore that Junkrat was panting into you open mouthed, his tongue lolling out.  
Your motions stuttered for a second and Junkrat gasped out- "N-please!"  
"Uh- right sorry." You apologised sheepishly. As cute as he was, your wrist was cramping up right now with what felt like the beginnings of carpal tunnel syndrome.  
"Gimme a sec here mate" you offered, and Jamison let out a long childish whine. "I swear I'll make you feel real nice." You promised. You brought your hand to your mouth and let a hefty glob of saliva drip into your palm. You were really pulling out all the stops for this Aussie bugger.

Resuming your ministrations with the aid of your spit made things much easier. Your hand was able to slide fluidly up and down Fawkes's cock now in smoother motions, and by the sounds of things Junkrat seemed to be enjoying himself even more.  
Instead of those heady moans, you were being serenaded with desperate pleading. You mentally patted yourself on the back for your problem solving skills.

It only took about 40 seconds of this for Jamison to come undone, murmuring incoherently into you.

"S-so tiny and good nn-fucking d-don't stop don't sto-aah!"

"Aye not doubting these small hands now, are you?" you chuckled sadistically, before blanching. Oh shit you didn't have any tissues. How were you going to-  
He pitifully whined out your name, "a-ah 'mgonna cum!" His grip on your shoulders was bruising.  
You accepted your fate, resigning yourself to finishing him regardless of the mess.

And that's when Junkrat bit you.  
You gripped his dick firm enough to break it in response, and that sent him over. He practically _screamed_ , his teeth still latched onto you. His warm cum gushed out of your fist and decorated the material of your vest. Jamison's legs gave out and he fell onto his knees, pulling you down with him. He clutched onto you for dear life for a good 15 seconds while his hips continued rocking and spasming into into your hand. God this boy has the most sensitive dick you've ever encountered in your life.

After a while he went still. You tapped him worriedly, hoping you hadn't just drained his life force out of his cock. His head snapped up and he gave you a rejuvenated grin. You couldn't help but grimace at the sight of his blood stained teeth.

"Shit mate that was the bloody best wank I've ever had!" He gleamed.  
His ejaculate painting your hand had gone uncomfortably cold now, and you fleetingly wondered if there were tutorials online on how to remove jizz stains from clothes.  
"Yeah I'm sure you enjoyed yourself..." You grumbled.  
"Well I'm ready to conk out now, thanks for the help bird!" He chattered, grabbing your upper arm with his metal one and leading you all too hastily to the door. So much for being appreciative.

He chucked you forwards through the doorway and swung it closed with a bang, but not before letting out a hearty "I'll help you out next time!"

So now you find yourself in the corridor. Jizz stained, flushed, and with a gaping wound in your neck. And what did he mean by 'helping you out'?  
That was a question to be answered another day. The deed was done. You had effectively slain the metaphorical dragon and could now collect your loot- a restful sleep. That is _if_ _you could_ sleep with the immense heat that had oh so mysteriously collected between your legs.

"Wanker." You muttered, before turning back to your room to retire. You were still blushing.

 _(hi ok im definitely going to add more to this because i love junkrat. thanks for reading tho pals)_


End file.
